Dodgers File For Bankruptcy

"The Los Angeles Dodgers filed for bankruptcy protection in a Delaware court Monday, blaming Major League Baseball for refusing to approve a multibillion-dollar TV deal that owner Frank McCourt was counting on to keep the troubled team afloat.

The Chapter 11 financing permits the Dodgers to use $150 million for daily operations and buys time for the team to seek a media deal and ensure the team's long-term financial stability, the Dodgers said in a news release. A judge would need to approve use of the money and a hearing is set for Tuesday (Sportsline)."

This is the first step in McCourt trying to fight the MLB and keep his team. I don't think in the long run he will be able to hold on, especially if half the expenses that were rumored before are true. I wish they would just let a good owner come in, but with the way this is going it's going to take years to straighten it all out. What also makes it tough is that there are a ton of companies involved (one owns parking lot, ect). It's just a mess, and it's sucks for LA fans, because until this is all fixed they are going to be terrible.

Cuban Looking To Buy Dodgers

This is the "God I hope this is true" story of the day. Mark Cuban is interested in buying the Dodgers once MLB takes control of them, which seems inevitable at this point. His exact quote was "if they're fixable and the deal is right, then I'm very interested." Mr. Cuban you are a billionaire, everything is fixable in baseball with money.

Yet, there are still at lot of hurdles. Frank McCourt (Dodgers current owner) is going to fight tooth and nail to keep this team. He is also going to sue the MLB if he looses it. That could make such a mess of things that it might not be worth it for Cuban.

Beyond that there have been rumors the MLB wants no part of Cuban in the MLB. They don't like how outspoken he is, and would rather not deal with. This is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. There is a billionaire that wants to own a team. At a time when 10 of your MLB teams are in debt, they should be begging him to join. Plus, he is a celebrity, and would bring some much needed press to the sport that has been lacking, since the NFL and NBA exploded on the scene. Shit, even the NHL is starting to get good numbers.

The MLB needs Mark Cuban. I know I have said it a million times, but owners like him do a couple things. They bring interest to the game, they will do everything to win, and to get a city like Los Angeles to have interest in baseball should be on the top of things to do in the MLB.

Manny Screws The Dodgers One More Time

Frank McCourt, owner of the Dodgers, is expected to be able to make his payroll for June 15th, but there are reports that there is no way that he will be able to make payroll for June 30th. A big reason for that is that Manny Ramirez being due $8.33 million of deferred salary, which brings the grand total to somewhere around $30 million (June 15th's was only $10 million). Once McCourt fails to pay his payroll the MLB will officially take over the Dodgers.

This is going to be a growing issue throughout baseball and I doubt the Dodgers will be the last team to be taken over by the MLB. The bottom line is that salaries are completely out of control, and at some point there is going to be a lockout and serious restructuring. McCourt didn't manage his money well from a lot of reports, so it may have been his own fault, but when you read there are 10 MLB teams with huge amounts of debt you know something it wrong.

The Triumphant Return From the West

If any of you spoke to me in my zombie ramblings yesterday and thought I seemed a bit out of it, that probably has something to do with me having gotten very few hours of sleep thanks to two insufferable crying children on my redeye back from Los Angeles Wednesday night. The true shame of this comes from Virgin America's low mood music and deep, soft purple lighting, which should knock anyone on the plane out in fairly short order. But they simply didn't account for parents who are disinterested in calming down their children now did they?

Of course not.

Well, it's a day later, I'm refreshed, and there's much to discuss over here in Kalanville. Perhaps it would seem prescient to start with the obvious, which is that the1920s gold prospector from Chicago you see in the top right corner smoking a cigar with me got married this past weekend.

It really just looks like a standard tuxedo until you include the pocket watches. They take them to a whole new level.

So, I suppose my brother's wedding was probably the most important thing I did in my third trip to the west coast in the past five weeks, but don't worry, there's actually plenty that was relevant to this blog that happened, too. My sister and I decided that following this wedding would be a perfect time to make a drive down the coast from San Francisco to Los Angeles, which for her purposes meant beautiful scenery and the chance to see her friend Lily. For mine it meant the chance to visit one of my favorite Stadiums -- AT&T Park -- and the chance to see a new one -- Dodger Stadium.

Some of you may recall my brutal near-miss in my attempt to see Dodger Stadium in July following my weekend trip to the San Diego Comic-Con. This time no force on heaven or Earth was going to stop me, which I'm sure caused my sister more than a little anxiety as I sped wrecklessly on I-10 East in Los Angeles.

I would have been on time for the game, too, were it not for the obnoxiously long line to pay for parking.

No matter. We got the game in and despite the lack of excitement from the action on the field Wednesday as the Phillies knocked off the Dodgers, it was still a lot of fun to see a new building, which, while not my favorite, has a lot to like about it nonetheless, namely it's color scheme which looks just how you'd expect a building from 1962 to look, and the beautiful view in the outfield. When I give this jaunt the full written rundown I'll give much more insight into its delightful antiquated charm, and moreover, despite the claims of one Evan Hung, the Dodger dogs are actually pretty decent.

Don't worry, Evan. San Francisco still has its superior garlic fries.

In fact, the garlic fries are extremely necessary since San Francisco, for some reason I can't possibly explain, irrationally relishes the fact that it is always mid-fall and chilly in that city. Aside from being a kind of bizarre place, I'd actually rather like the City by the Bay were it not for every day feeling like October 24th there. Monday night when we attended a Giants-Rockies game that had me frustrated for not starting Jonathan Sanchez on my fantasy team the same night I saw him throw eight-plus shutout innings in person until the Giants lost in spectacular fashion in the ninth inning, it was somewhere between cool and freezing. My sister was prepared with a scarf and later bought a knit hat for the occasion, I came with a long-sleeved shirt and jacket, and all of my Bay Area cohorts came layered, including Stacy who had gloves with her just in case it was particularly nippy.

It was August. Late August is still August.

In any event, the trip was a good one had by all, and I now get to enjoy a whole 12 days in New York before I head to Boston on Sept. 14 and then go to my next new sporting venue, Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis, for the Manning Bowl on Sept. 19.

Wahoo.

Speaking of the Giants, with the season getting underway for Big Blue on Sept. 12, I made sure to have my tickets earlier today for the first regular season game ever held at the Giants and Jets brand-spankin'-new and totally necessary Meadowlands Stadium. I won't know for sure until they arrive, but I'm hopeful the tickets will be the fancy shmancy laminated commemorative ones that most season ticket holders are getting.

Getting those tickets was a nice uplift after seeing (Warning: Dave is about to talk Aussie Rules Football) Geelong play well beneath its abilities for most of Friday's Qualifying Final with last year's Grand Final opponent St. Kilda. The loss was a particularly brutal one as a questionable foul with 61 seconds left nullified what would have been a game-winning goal by captain Cameron Ling, the huffing-puffing fire-headed chap you see to the left.

This doesn't end the Cats' hunt for a fourth Grand Final trip in as many seasons and a third premiership in that span, but it doesn't make it easier. With a win Geelong would have gotten two weeks off until a win-or-go home Preliminary Final with a berth in the big game at the end on the line. Instead the Cats will have to win a match this weekend against either Fremantle or Hawthorn (which famously upset Geelong in the 2008 Grand Final) to reach the semis.

Then again, as a fan of the Mets (who have to deal with being attached to Snooki), the Giants (who never make it easy), the Devils (who apparently need six weeks to sign a free agent), Northwestern (which wears purple), Southampton FC (relegated twice this decade) and the Knicks (Do I need to explain this one?), I'm used to taking the long road to victory. And with Northwestern opening its season tomorrow night against Vanderbilt, I'll get a quick reminder on how long a season can be if the Wildcats get upset by the 'Dores.

But since I don't cross the Mississippi again for two and a half months, at least I won't have to deal with jetlag by the time I experience that collapse.

Right?

Go West, Young Man. Again.

Some of you might have noticed that my updates have been somewhat sparse lately, and I will plead your forgiveness by offering a few reasons why. You see, the month of August 2010 has been particularly busy for me, with work, weddings and travel galore. Also, the downtrodden Mets have left me with little to be excited about in sports beyond the start of Southampton's League One season and the run up to the Aussie Rules Football Finals, which Geelong should figure to impact rather heavily.

But y'all cats aren't necessarily interested in all that, though perhaps the coming start of Northwestern's college football season might excite you. Or maybe not. I'm sure my four readers would feign interest while I rambled about the Cats' prospects at a surprise Big Ten title or my Geelong Cats' prospects of a third premiership in four years, but I wouldn't want to make hypocrites out of all of you.

In any event, I will come clean and tell you all why this month has been so busy, and essentially, I will revolve it around my zany trip to San Diego to see the annual Comic-Con, and a trip I made two weeks ago to see my friends Dave and Caitlin tie the knot in Portland, Oregon. This would be the same Dave with whom I saw that magic moment for Ken Griffey Jr. last June. In between all of those events I've been juggling a typical work schedule, the precipitous downfall of my Mets, the impending start of the season for my Giants, the fact that Ilya Kovalchuk somehow still isn't under a contract that passes muster and my brother's impending nuptials this Sunday.

See how I slipped that in there? Eh? Eh?

That, my friends, is what we call burying the lead. Burying it after the jump is equally as bad, but you've got to entice the reader to keep on reading no?

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Elliott, Emmy-winning comedy writer, terrible movie enthusiast and newly minted comic book author, is getting hitched to his fiancee Danielle this Sunday in Sonoma, California, which means, I have to book it to the airport tomorrow morning for a flight to San Francisco that will mark my third trip across the country in five weeks.

Yep. That's right. The third time in five weeks.

Fortunately, this is no longer the era of covered wagons like you see to the left here, so my accommodations -- the newfangled "airplane" -- will get me to San Francisco in at least half the time.

Now, surely none of you really care all that much about my travel plans to my brother's wedding, beyond offerings of congratulations and curiosity over just how big a disaster my best man speech is going to be, but here's why it matters for this space. There will be baseball. West Coast Baseball. The Mets would not exist were it not for the California-bound relocation of the New York Giants and Brooklyn Dodgers half a century ago, and because the actual Mets are, well, terrible right now, I will instead scope out the forbears of my favorite team who are much better than terrible and actually even in contention for what they call "a playoff berth".

We Mets fans may be unfamiliar with that concept these days, but I assure all of you, it actually exists.

And so, because I will be on the left coast, my sister, I, and a few assorted others will be attending this Monday's Giants-Rockies game at AT&T Park, and while this will not be a new experience for me -- I've been there twice -- it just may be my favorite. Two days later, if we can wake ourselves early enough to make the drive from San Luis Obispo, we will be in Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles to, at long last, knock the second oldest park in the National League off of my list. I'm awfully excited about the prospect.

Oh yeah. And my brother's getting married. That's pretty exciting, too. One of my best friends in college, Luisa Badaracco of my venture to Fenway and TD Garden fame, was at her sister's wedding three years ago when Clay Buchholz threw a no-hitter in his second career start for her Boston Red Sox. Will history repeat itself for my brother Sunday as the historically pitching-rich Mets finally get their first no-no? Well, the odds are a little slim, though this isn't the most unlikely thing I've banked on -- in High School I once told a teacher I'd have to miss a club meeting because I had Mets tickets and I liked their chances for a Perfect Game against the hapless Orioles. The Mets probable starter is R.A. Dickey, who already has a one-hitter under his belt in a surprising knuckleballing season that has him stunningly in the top ten of the NL's ERA chase. His foe -- the equally as hapless Houston Astros in the pitcher's haven of Citi Field.

The stars are aligned. You can pretty much take it to the bank.

On one last note, it was revealed this week whom the Mets will be visiting in 2011 for interleague play, which is always of great interest to me as I look to strike down stadiums on my quest. Despite much hub-bub that the Amazins would be visiting Minnesota's new Target Field, they will in fact be visiting Rangers Ballpark at Arlington and Comerica Park in Detroit. While I have already been to Comerica Park, the Texas Rangers are new on the list. Who's up for a road trip?

And that's all the news that's fit to print and a whole lot more that isn't in these parts. California beckons tomorrow, again, and the Kalan family will be changed forever. If I can keep my eyes open after crisscrossing the U.S. one last time this month, I'll be sure to tell you all about it next week.

Oh The Fates, Ye Be Cruel

Ok, let's be honest here. No one actually wants a championship ring so they can wear it. They're gaudy, heavy clunky things that attract way more attention than most people are comfortable with in their private lives and not always the good kind.

But they're also really, really cool to look at. Duh.

Who wouldn't want a championship ring of some sort, really? They're fun to show off and a sense of great pride if acquired through an actual accomplishment even if it spends all of its time in your safety deposit box. Of course some people just want them because of their value and will acquire them through whatever means they wish, which is surprisingly easy if you've got a big bank account.

Finding rings in eBay auctions (some more bizarre than others) isn't all that unusual, and seeing them randomly wind up in pawn shops isn't so rare either. Of course, sometimes the means aren't all that legitimate.

So I hear the questions. "Dave, why are you talking about this? You're never going to get a championship ring for yourself. You're just a wee wannabe sportswriter." True, this statement may be, but working for a team professionally has been a thought in the back of my mind from time to time, and regardless, having a championship ring of any sort would be pretty sweet, even if I had to keep it locked up at all times. A burden, sure, but one I'd love to have even if it were just for bragging rights, but either way, it's never been a prospect I've thought I'd have a real shot at or seriously entertained.

And then I came across this story.

Those Chicago Blackhawks were quite a fun team to watch this year, but as I've pointed out on more than one occasion, I was rather excited to see them win the whole shabang even if they weren't the New Jersey Devils. Ever since I worked as an intern for the Blackhawks during my senior year of college four years ago, I have had a soft spot in my heart for the Hawks, both as someone who has seen the inner workings of a professional sports franchise and as someone who still has friends in the organization. It is disconcerting to see that they still lost money this season despite partying with Stanley, but that is likely a remnant of the antiquated business practices of former owner Bill Wirtz, who famously refused to broadcast home games on TV. The team should turn a profit this coming season and be well on its way.

I was more struck by this part of the article, however:


"There's definitely no penny-pinching going on. Among those set to receive Stanley Cup rings next season include the team's interns."

They're giving rings to everyone. They're giving rings to interns. It's hard to play the what-if game here, but I think you all can see what I'm getting at here, which, essentially, is that, if I were four years younger, I would be getting some new hardware this summer.

I would have a Stanley Cup championship ring.

This is, of course, a very silly and abstract argument to make since being four years younger likely would have led me on an entirely different path through my life. That is probably pretty clear. Moreover, considering that Chicago finished last in its division the year I worked there, a title was hardly a plausible idea at the time. But it's still fun to dream and in my mind, I apparently came oh so close to bragging to all of my friends over a dramatically undeserved piece of jewelry.

So close, and yet so far away.

There is some better news however, which is that the tickets to my next planned venture have arrived. Now, it won't be the next unusual stadium I make my way to. My sister and I will likely be at the Giants-Rockies game in San Francisco on August 30th and there is a very slim chance that I might get to knock Dodger Stadium off the list on September 1st to make up for last week's near miss after my sister and I drive down the California coast.

But barring that, my next big trip will be to Indianapolis to see the quadrennial Manning Bowl with Dov Turner. The Giants visit the Colts once every eight years and with the next time coming on September 19, I will be there in the very last row of Lucas Oil Stadium to watch Big Blue spoil the AFC Champions' home opener after some banner raising fanfare.

Excited? You bet. I'll be sure to post a story once the trip is complete and with the Mets being a completely unmitigated disaster these days, I was happy to receive something to take my mind off the pain.

It may not be a Stanley Cup Championship ring, but today it will have to do.

Back From California

I have something heartbreaking and shocking to reveal to all of you. Are you ready? Ok. Here it goes.

Sometimes, once in a while, I will take a trip that does not include a sporting event. Of course, I should note, it is not for lack of trying. This past weekend I made a swing out to San Diego for my brother's bachelor party weekend, where we celebrated bachelordom like all men do: at a Comic Book Convention.

This was a pretty interesting experience with more wild costumes and crazy comic book obssessees than you can shake a stick at. I enjoyed myself even if there were no baseball games to go around, but the lesson should be taught that sometimes you're going to have to accept that not every plan will come to fruition. For this weekend in San Diego and Los Angeles, that was certainly the case. I had accepted the fact that the Padres would not be in town the weekend I was there -- and after arriving it became painfully obvious that Comic-Con so takes over the city that hosting baseball games is a ridiculous idea -- but I had not yet given up hope that I might catch my Amazins, who were going to be in Los Angeles over the weekend.

But, of course, it didn't work out that way, nor did I get to catch the Angels in Anaheim the next night due to a number of mixed signals and confused schedules. Not that this is the worst thing in the world. As I have explained, Los Angeles isn't a city I don't expect to go through again, like, say, Oklahoma City. I will be in Los Angeles again, though after the 45 hours I spent there, I'm not sure how many times I can be there.

That isn't a slight against my hosts, who were phenomenally generous and fun, but L.A. just isn't my kind of city. And in many regards, it's a total fantasy land.

At least I did get to take more than my fair share of looks at Petco Park in San Diego, which was literally next to our hotel, and came within walking distance of Angel Stadium in Anaheim. Whether or not you can view these things as cool sightseeing or cruel teases is up to you.

In the meantime, a valuable lesson was learned about how sometimes things just won't work out. And I'm probably just going to have to cope with that. And unlike when some best laid plans fall through, I won't always have a Russian oligarch to bail me out.

And so, with that, I have come to accept that I will have to knock the Dodgers, Angels and Padres off the list some other time, but considering the Mets were in L.A. to polish off a season-torpedoing 2-9 road trip, it may be best for my health that I avoided the situation all together.

Plus I got a totally awesome production drawing of Wolverine from the X-Men animated series that I'm going to frame and hang up. And once I arrived home, I found my tickets to September's Giants-Colts game in Indianapolis had arrived.

Until the next stadium some cardboard and a drawing of adamantium will have to keep me satisfied. I think my brother would be proud.

Some Brief Updates

It's been a crazy couple of days here and so while I'm distracted by the Mets absolutely killing it out of the All-Star Break -- and by "killing it" I mean "killing their season" -- I'm still going to get you a few piece of valuable information. Once you're done reading about the Devils re-signing massive free agent Ilya Kovalchuk, a move that very well might define the franchise for 20 years -- and save all of us from a long process of LeBron-like proportions -- after they shocked most of the hockey world by acquiring him via trade in February.

No matter. I have more important information afoot.

First of all, when I first started writing a book about my adventures where I went from one place to the next seeing ports arenas, I began scribbling about them in April of 2009. At the time I had seen some 24 teams and set the rather auspicious goal of having all of them written about by the time I went on my massive vacation out west last June. This did not happen. Instead, I was lazy, bumbling, and actually wound up spending some four months suffering through writer's block on my chapter about the Philadelphia Phillies. A rough combination of being daunted by the job and just being outstandingly lazy.

More the latter.

Well, my dear readers, get excited because now, at long last, I have finally reached the unreachable star. Sort of. I still have some 89 teams left to see and write about, but after finally polishing off a story about my trip to see the Mets visit the Orioles in Baltimore last month this Sunday I am now entirely caught up the present in penning my adventures. Don't get me wrong, there are many more to come, but at the very least I am no longer behind the eight ball.

I'm sure you're all breathing a little sigh of relief now.

The other big news is that my brother's impending wedding is warranting a transcontinental bachelor party. The big day is only six weeks or so off, and in the meantime, Elliott, myself and some friends will be heading to San Diego on Thursday for the purposes of celebrating his last days as a free man in a typical and totally not outrageously nerdy way at all. I'll bet all of you wish you could spend this Friday listening to a bunch of Hasbro designers talk about fashioning Star Wars action figures.

Who needs strippers?

The reason this has warranted mention here on my sports-centric blog is because after my time at the San Diego Comic-Con I will be heading up to Los Angeles where, if all the planning goes well, I will make the Los Angeles Dodgers the 34th team I cross off the list when they host my hot-as-pistols New York Mets Sunday at Dodger Stadium. There are still details to be hammered out, like seeing if the Amazins can find their heads and stop being an embarrassment, but I'm hopeful it all gets taken care of and yet another stop is taken care of.

Of course, at that point, the only problem is I'll be back behind schedule.... But don't worry, I have a long plane flight to occupy myself with after the game. And unlike a certain New Jersey Devils left winger, it won't take me three weeks to make up my mind on how to write it.

Welcome to Round 2

Yes, I know many of you would probably expect me to continue talking about the Mets, who, amazingly won their seventh in a row yesterday to stay atop the NL East by completing their first sweep of the Dodgers in 15 years. Exciting time are afoot in Queens, as New York takes its 1/2-game lead into Philadelphia this weekend for the first major challenge of the season. Of course, it would have been 1 1/2 games were it not for a late rally by the Phils in San Francisco yesterday, but I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth.

First place is first place, even if April is still April.

But the more pressing an exciting news comes in the way of the Stanley Cup Playoffs, which, after a wild Game 7 that saw the No. 1 team in the League blow a 3-1 series lead in the opening round, hits Round 2 tonight with no break whatsoever -- a rarity for the NHL. Instead Mega Shark Versus Giant Octopus gets underway in San Jose tonight, with the rest of the second round following suit tomorrow and Saturday. These aren't exactly the matchups I was expecting, peculiarly the 4, 6, 7 and 8 seeds were the ones to advance in the Eastern Conference, and with no Devils and no Capitals getting in the way I can't possibly imagine a scenario in which Sidney Crosby and the Penguins don't get to the Stanley Cup Finals.

And a rematch with the Wings for the third straight year doesn't seem all that crazy either. But of course, that's why they play the games.

And to that end, here are my certain to be just as wrong as they were in the first round predictions for the second round of your Stanley Cup Playoffs.

Eastern Conference
(4) Pittsburgh over (8) Montreal in five games
(6) Boston over (7) Philadelphia in six games

Western Conference
(1) San Jose over (5) Detroit in seven games
(2) Chicago over (3) Vancouver in six games

Yeah, I'm willing to bet at least on of those doesn't turn out right, probably Boston and Philadelphia, which some of you may recall is a rematch of this year's Winter Classic, and while I make no secret of disdaining Philadelphia, my only real hope for the rest of the playoffs is that the Blackhawks win the Stanley Cup.

Of course, knowing my luck in the playoffs so far, they'll probably get swept.

Lastly, I came across this news item on ESPN.com today stating that, according to a report by the Nielsen Company, the most hated team in Major League Baseball is... wait for it .... yep, just who you thought it'd be.

The Cleveland Indians.

Wait, what? A team that continually has its heart broken and hasn't won a World Series in 62 years is the most hated franchise in the sport? I see no way that this is feasibly possible. For one thing, I've had nothing but pleasant experiences seeing the Indians in person. For another, Cleveland isn't exactly a city that overwhelms you with its power and arrogance.

It's Cleveland, for heaven's sake.

And lastly, their mascot, Slider, is adorable. I mean look at him. As I told a friend earlier today, the only thought in my mind when I see him is to pinch his cheek and call him "Shookums".

Even that Roger Dorn, is kind of fun in his own assholish way. Now, I know the Indians lose some cache now that Pedro Cerrano has called it quits, but seriously, someone please explain to me what is eminently hateable about this team in anyway.

I'll buy you a cookie if you can convince me. Let the contest begin.

That's all for today. Enjoy the hockey.

First Person To Pinch Me Gets Punched In The Face

Yes, some of you might have noticed something peculiar as you sat down on the porch with a mug of coffee and your freshly delivered copy of the New York Times this morning that by some peculiar miracle the New York Mets are in first place in the National League East.

Yeah, the Mets that all the doomsayers had losing 90 games. Those Mets. They're somehow atop the NL East this morning after a six-game winning streak, and today may be the only time they're in that place this season, so for the love of God don't shit on my parade.

I'm not sure how long, exactly this can be expected to last, given that the Mets had to win six games in a row to get here, my best guess is "not very", but it does bear reminding that the Mets haven't even played all that well during this streak, which was capped off by New York's first doubleheader sweep of the Dodgers in 39 years yesterday. In fact, last night's 10-5 whupping of L.A. was the first time the bats really broken out during the Mets' current hot streak, with most of the victories built on what has been a surprisingly solid pitching staff so far.

Stunningly, before the Dodgers scored in the fourth inning of the night cap, Mets pitching had racked up 20 consecutive scoreless innings. Sure, some of you might deride that by saying the Mets nearly pulled that off once this year inside of a single game, but the fact that Johan Santana still looks to be winning ball games despite a drop in velocity and Mike Pelfrey may have finally got it bears some notice. John Maine has been shaky and each Oliver Perez outing still feels like a tightrope walk two millimeters wide, but the bullpen, which has an ERA of 2.61 right now, has somehow managed to pull it out each time, to the tune of eight wins in New York's last nine games.

And in typical fashion, the one game the Mets lost in this stretch is the one game I attended.

Regardless, the lineup may finally be coming together. Jason Bay started driving the ball with a home run and a triple last night, David Wright drove in four runs on the day (and didn't strike out for the first time 13 outings in the second game) and Ike Davis continues to wow with three RBIs yesterday to complement his .980 OPS since being called up to the Majors 10 games ago.

Yes, I know, it is early. It's only April. And there is plenty of time for the Mets to collapse brutally once again or fade from the race before it even becomes a race. But for now, the Mets are winning games, and this team is a lot of fun to watch. The only thing that might make them more fun would be a music video to rival the glory of 1986.



Somehow I think the message of Doc Gooden giving something to a group of school children doesn't really resonate the same way today.

In any event, it'd be awfully nice if the Mets could keep winning into the summer because with the impending end of hockey season just six weeks away I may be lacking for distractions. The first round is set to end tonight with a Game 7 between the surprisingly feisty Canadiens and the somewhat less surprisingly lazy Capitals. Of course, the Capitals, being supremely talented and having won the Presidents' Trophy in a walk this year I still expect them to win, but the magic of a Game 7 is that we never really know.

What I'm far more intrigued by, however, is the second-round Western Conference match up between San Jose and Detroit, which won its own Game 7 last night, that gets underway this weekend. These two teams have a bit of a playoff history dating back to the Sharks' stunning first-round upset of the top-seeded Wings in 1994, and the experienced team that is Detroit, coming off two straight Finals appearances is a tall order for a Sharks team that has a habit of disappointing in the playoffs lately.

But what really makes this series interesting is what was pointed out on the outstanding Yahoo! Sports hockey blog Puck Daddy. This series will essentially be ideal fodder for us to make fun of the absolutely ridiculous Lorenzo Lamas and Debbie Gibson smash non-hit of 2009 Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus. The San Jose reference is obvious (They're the Sharks. Duh.), but the allusion to the Red Wings might seem abstract if you aren't familiar with the long-honored tradition of throwing octopi on the ice in Detroit.

The movie may not be an exact parallel for this series, but it does feature a major sequence in the Northern California Bay Area. Also, the trailer is, you know, hilarious.



I'll have some picks on what's going to go down in the second round ready for you tomorrow, though since I did so well in the first round, you may or may not want to believe me, but I'll be ready. Sort of.

In the meantime, settle in and enjoy tonight's Game 7, keep enjoying the Mets and don't send any incriminating facebook messages.